Into the Darkness
by Lucid Madness
Summary: 17 year old Audley Rhys is a "good kid." He's "pure." But then he's reaped. Will he be able to retain his purity, or will he be corrupted irreversibly by the horror that is the "Hunger Games"? Please read and review.


Part One

Sunlight streams through my window, striking me in the face, shining through my eyelids. I crack an eye open, and instantly feel dread course through my veins. I lie still in my bed for a moment, feeling as though the worry is weighing me down.

Today is the day of the reaping. I've known this day was coming for a while now, despite my trying to ignore it. I look over at the other bed in the room, at the sleeping form of my little brother, Alton. He's twelve. It's his first year in the reaping, and I know he's terrified. I decide to let him sleep a little longer. He needs it.

I stumble into the kitchen, which smells of fish. Fried fish, to be more exact. Ma is bent over the stove, cooking up a storm. She looks up when I enter. "Good morning, Audley."

"Morning," I say, bending a little to allow her to give me her customary kiss on the cheek. When I was younger I was about her height. But now, I'm a solid foot taller than her. She sighs, looking up at me. "Where did my little boy go? You're a giant now."

"I'm still here, Ma. And you still have Al..."

She suddenly looks even more stressed, though I can see why. "Alton—"

"Still asleep," I answer her question before she asks it. She smiles, half gratefully, and turns her attention back to the stove.

"That-that's nice. He needs his rest. It's a-a big day for him." Her head hangs a little, and I can tell she's about to cry.

"He'll be fine. He's only in once." I say. My words do a little to comfort her. She wipes her blue eyes, and shakes her head.

"Yes, yes. Fine." Ma gives herself another little shake and puts a smile on her face. "What about you, Audley? How are you?"

I smile, and brush a mop of straight light brown hair from my eyes. "Fine."

"This is your second to last reaping." She says cheerily.

It's true. I'm seventeen. If I get through this reaping, I'll only have one more. Never mind the fact that my name is in the reaping ball six times. I watch her as she transfers the fish from the pot to the paper towel she has lying on the counter.

"Will you go get your brother, please? Breakfast is ready."

"Mhm." I start to turn and leave, but something strikes me. I look back at her. "You have to be strong for him, Ma. If he sees you crying, he might lose it."

She says nothing, instead turning to begin setting the table. I sigh, and walk back down the hall. To my surprise, Alton is already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. His eyes meet mine when I enter, and we look at each other for a moment, blue to blue. Then he looks away. He doesn't like eye contact much.

"Hey, Al," I say, gently. I sit next to him.

"Hi Audie." The words are mumbled.

"Gotta go to breakfast, now. Breakfast."

Something similar to a smile touches his face, but with Alton you can never be sure. "Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast. Breakfast."

"That's right. C'mon. Ma made fried fish."

Alton pulls himself out of bed, and shuffles to the kitchen, without acknowledging me at all. I follow behind him, still worried about how he's taking the reaping.

Alton sits at his customary place at the table, where he has a perfect view of the window. From there, you can just barely see the ocean. Ma places his plate in front of him, and I notice the special care she has taken arranging the food, largest bits on the left, smallest on the right. His special cup of juice sits directly in front of him. It's blue, his favorite color.

Alton begins eating as Ma hands me my plate. The fish smells good, and knowing Ma's cooking, it will be good. My mouth waters.

Breakfast is eaten in tense silence. Alton finishes his food, and shuffles back to our room without a single word to either of us. Ma sighs, but she's used to it.

I lower my voice. "Will Dad be there?"

She shakes her head. "He will, but only because it's mandatory. Don't expect to see him."

I can't help but be a little disappointed.

Ma glances down at my plate. "If you're finished, you should help Alton get ready."

"Right, right." I stand, and go back to our room. But before I leave, I hear my mother stifle a sob.

He's in the bathroom, brushing his teeth mechanically, staring down at the sink. He doesn't even look up when I enter. I reach around him to grab my toothbrush and the toothpaste. We brush in silence. After a few moments of this, he leaves the bathroom. I finish brushing quickly, and follow him.

Alton is standing at the closet, staring into it. I reach around him for his special occasion shirt. "Today's a big day, so you have to dress nice."

He eyes the shirt critically. "It's itchy."

"But this is your nice shirt..."

He rips the shirt from my hands and throws it to the floor. He reaches for another, the one I was planning to wear. It's a little big on him, but I guess it will work. I pull a different shirt from the closet. It's wrinkled, yet I put it on anyway. I don't want to be late for the reaping. From what I've heard, the consequences for that offense can be astronomical.

We arrive at the town square, right on time. It's already crowded with people. I beckon Alton, and we make our way to the section for twelve year old boys.

"Alton. Stay here, okay? You'll be fine. All you have to do is stand here for a little bit, then we can go home."

"You wanna go home now." Alton's words are muttered quickly. I know he means that he wants to go home, but he has trouble talking about himself.

"I know. You'll be fine though. Promise."

"Promise. Proooommiisseee." He repeats. He then begins fiddling with a button on his shirt.

I sigh, and leave him to his shirt. Up ahead, the seventeen year old boy section is nearly full. I manage to get a spot next to my friend, Harlan. He looks more tense than most of the boys here. He has his name in many more times than me, because he's had to sign up for tesserae a few times. I feel a little guilty. The Rhys family isn't exactly rich, but we've never wanted for much. I look down at him. "Hey." He gives me a small grin.

"Hey." He generally doesn't talk much, so his next question surprises me. "How's Al?"

"Al? He's...Al." I say. I'm about to say more, but the mayor begins his speech, something that we are required to be silent for. I zone out, enjoying the feeling of the sea breeze in my face. The speech is long, and boring and I can practically recite it by heart. As the mayor drones on and on, I try to figure out Al's odds of being chosen. They're not very high, to my relief. I glance back at the stage briefly, to see the escort, whose name I didn't catch, hopping up to the reaping ball. The ball is filled with names of girls. I know many of them, thanks to school and long swimming excursions. I wonder if the arena will have water. Maybe a lake, or a river. It would make it easier for a District Four tribute. Swimming's in our blood. In fact, my blood may as well be half saltwater, judging by the amount of time I spent in the water. My fingers seem to have achieved a permanent state of wrinkly-ness.

The escort has given a speech—something I don't recall from reapings past—and has stuck her hand into the ball. She fishes around for a moment before choosing. She reads the name grandly. "Mira Lum!"

I don't recognize the girl who timidly makes her way up to the stage. Her hair is long and dark brown, with curls that are tightly coiled and tangled. Her skin is deeply tanned. Tears are flowing down her face as she stands up on the stage. The escort asks for volunteers, but no one steps up, despite District Four being a Career district.

The escort scoots over to the other reaping ball. She plunges her hand into the hundreds of scraps of paper and yanks it out immediately.

_Please, don't say Alton Rhys, please, please..._

"Au-Audley Rhys!"

What?

_What?_

My ears are buzzing as I make my way up to the stage. This is impossible. I can't be the one who was called. I can't. I can't.

My legs are numb by the time I make it up the wooden stairs. The escort asks for volunteers, but no one does. I feel...alone.

Alone. I look for Alton in the crowd, but he's hidden behind someone, and I can only see the top of his head.

All at once, I'm whisked away, to the place where I will say my final goodbyes. The sick knot in my stomach won't go away, and my hands seem to be twitching furiously. I sit on the couch provided, and try to put on a strong face for my family, and anyone else who may come in through the door.

Ma and Alton are first. I stand to greet them, but Ma nearly knocks me back onto the couch. She throws her arms around me, and sobs openly. Alton clamps his hands over his ears, disliking the sound of my mother's cries.

She looks up at me, eyes red and watery. "You do whatever you have to do to came back, you hear me? Whatever you have to do! I want you _home_, Audley!"

"I know. I know." I whisper. I can't tell her. I can't tell her that I most likely won't be coming back. I'm no remarkably specimen, despite all of my swimming ability. I'll survive for the first week or so, and then someone bigger, or stronger will find and kill me. Or maybe starvation will get me. Or something else entirely.

Alton has been sitting on the couch, hands still over his ears, buzzing to himself, rocking back and forth. Ma gently taps him on the shoulder. "Alton...Al...say goodbye to your brother."

Alton doesn't even look up, and this makes my mother cry even harder. She burrows her head in my shirt and shakes with sobs.

I pat her on the back, and help her to sit. I know she must be terrified, but I need to tell her something. I pull her back, look her dead in the eyes. "You _cannot _let Alton watch the Games, Ma. Don't talk even about them, at all. If you do watch, watch while he's at school, or asleep. I don't want—" my voice catches in my throat "—I don't want him to see me up there."

She nods, understanding. "I won't, Audley."

I nod, relieved. On my other side, Alton has stopped buzzing and rocking. He fixes his eyes on my hand, which has curled into a fist. He grabs it, and runs his finger along the ridges of my knuckle. Then, with surprising strength, he pries my hand open. I wonder what he's doing, because he almost never initiates contact with another person.

Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the very same button he had been playing with before. I realize now why he had noticed it—that button was dark blue, instead of black. I remember having to replace that button a few years back. The different colored button was hardly noticeable, but I guess he saw it, and it bugged him.

He pulls my hand closer to him, and drops the button into it. I give him a tight smile as he curls my fingers back into a fist. Then Alton begins mechanically patting my hand, staring out into space.

A peacekeeper comes in, alerting us to the fact our time is up. Ma's face crumbles, a warning that she is about to release a new wave of tears. I shake my head at her, and glance at Alton, who now has my fist pressed to his forehead. He's suffering. The grimace that is spread across his face is a telltale sign.

"Alton...we have to leave Audie now, come on..."

Alton doesn't let go of my fist. He keeps it pressed to his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut, rocking back and forth, whimpering.

"Al..." Ma whispers. The peacekeeper pushes himself forward, and roughly seizes Alton by the shoulder. He shrieks, and begins swinging. I leap up, and shove the peacekeeper off of my little brother.

"Don't touch him! He'll...he'll go by himself." I turn Alton around to face me. "Look. It's gonna be okay, Al. You'll see. It'll be alright."

"Will it?" it's the first clear sentence that I've heard him say in a while. He looks at me intensely for a moment, and then his eyes drop to the floor.

"Yes. It-it will." I give him a weak smile. "Bye Al."

"Bye-bye Audie," he mutters. He turns around and wanders outside. My mother gives me one last hug, before withdrawing. Then, overcome by grief, she scurries from the room.

I collapse back onto the couch, feeling empty. A strange wetness gathers at the corners of my eyes, and I brush it away. It's been a while since I've cried, and I can't start now. Don't want to be seen as weak.

Harlan comes in next. He sits beside me, and awkwardly wipes his glasses on his shirt. It's silent for a moment.

"Be safe out there, okay?"

I look at him. "I'll try."

He smiles, and then gets up, and leaves with only a small, sad, wave. I want to ask him if he can check in on Alton, but something tells me he was already going to.

I rub my face, feeling more alone than ever. The peacekeeper is silent. I wonder how many children he's seen ripped away from their families. He keeps his gaze away from me.

Someone else enters. A tall man with scraggly black hair and blue eyes. My father.

I glare. "What do you want?"

"To…to say goodbye, Audley." He whispers.

"After all this time you come back, huh?" I spit. "Right when I'm about to leave to go and be _killed_ you show up!"

"Audley…please. I'm sorry!" He says desperately.

"Don't say sorry to me. It's too late." I pause. "Go to Alton. Say sorry to him. There's still time for him."

My father's eyes well up. "He won't listen to me…"

"Stop it with your goddamned excuses!" I shout so loud, the peacekeeper at the door jumps. "He's your _son._"

My father's face looks older than it ever has. Tears fall down the wrinkled face, onto his jacket. In frustration, he wipes them away.

I feel the wetness in my eyes grow, and a tear rolls down my cheek as well. I don't want to show any weak emotion, especially in front of my father. But I do feel rage boiling inside of me. I grit my teeth.

"Go home. Spend time with Alton. Stop being selfish, and only caring about yourself." I say. "Don't leave Alton and Ma alone again."

He sort of nods, and his eyes drop. Slowly—I hear his bones creaking—he stands, and paces towards the door. With one last glace back, he leaves.

I rest my head in my hands, and close my eyes. I long to be back in my home, with Ma and Alton. I hope they'll be okay.

The peacekeeper roughly nudges me, and motions towards the tent. "It's time to go. Come on, kid."

Not an ounce of sympathy in his voice, not a drop of pity. His features seem to be set in stone. I decide to channel his demeanor, make my face a blank mask.

He leads me outside. Cameras surround us, but I ignore them. The train is waiting, and the cameras vie for an image of me before it departs. I don't give them the satisfaction. I disappear before they can get a good visual.

The doors close, and I feel a haggard sob escape my throat. I don't want to die. I don't want to _die. _

Somewhere else on the train, I hear loud, unrestrained cries of sorrow. Mira, I guess. I slump into a chair, feeling lost. Mira's wails punctuate the air. I curl up on a plush chair, and for the first time since Alton closed it, I open my fist. The button is still there, moist with sweat. I drop it into my shirt pocket. That will be my token.

The train begins to move away. Away from everything I've ever known, and towards a new, horrifyingly brief future. I tremble with fear, and then determination.

I will do anything it takes to survive. I will come back to District Four victorious. No matter what, I'll come back home to my family.

No matter what.


End file.
